Trigger
by Forgelove
Summary: As if rebuilding his reputation after 'The Fall' wasn't hard enough for Sherlock he's struggling to keep up the charade that he is in perfect health.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**I am sorry about the dreadful summary but I wasbn't sure how to describe this without giving too much away but I suppose it basically is a Sherlock sicfic I am really excited about this! I have wanted to write a Sherlock story for a while and then the idea came for this story and demanded to be written. Please review I would really appreciate your thoughts on this!**

**Disclaimer**

**Sadly I don't own Sherlock this makes me sad I really want to own Benedict so I can stroke his hair and make him talk to me. Anyway now i've managed to sound completely creepy on to the story.**

"_Um. Hm. You... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Um. There were times that I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best man and the most human... human being that I have ever known, and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. And so... there. I was so alone and I owe you so much. Please, there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it, stop this..." _

Sherlock stood behind John listening to him talking to his grave. He always was horrifically unobservant he thought to himself. He was surprised at the depth of emotion John expressed towards him. John spent a lot of his time marvelling at both his abilities and his way of addressing the rest of the world. He had no idea he cared this much about him. Sherlock refused to accept this as an error on his part it was simply a deduction he had not made until now.

John tensed as he sensed someone behind him. He turned quickly though inwardly reminded himself it was a cemetery other people being here was a strong possibility. Even so, as he turned his hand moved towards his concealed gun.

"You won't shoot so drop the act and your observation skills are still terrible. Have you learned nothing from working with me?" Sherlock asked with a slight smirk. He made no mention of John's speech and knew instantly from looking at him that he wouldn't either. Some things didn't need to be talked about.

"Sherlock?" John cried out in surprise as he hurried towards him. It couldn't be, could it? He was dead. He had been declared dead at the scene, the memories still plagued his sleep. Yet some how he had to believe after all he was standing before him talking and breathing but then again he had also seen him lying dead before him.

"John," Sherlock said calm in response.

"How are you? You can't be you were...I saw it," John babbled slightly in the way he knew deeply infuriated Sherlock.

"Let's go," Sherlock interrupted. This was not a conversation he wished to have at all least of all out in the open. He also really wanted to be at home he wasn't sure how much longer he could be out here. He felt frustrated by his body and refused to give into its weakness again, he was better than that.

"Right...a taxi then?" John asked.

"Obviously," Sherlock replied causing John to roll his eyes and smile sightly.

"I still can't believe it I mean..."

"John, shut up," Sherlock said cutting him off abruptly. "221B Baker Street," he said in a clipped tone to the driver.

Sherlock got out the taxi the second it stopped heading straight for the flat. He noted the lock was a little stiff but said nothing as he ran up the stairs into the flat. He whirled round so he was facing John the second he entered their flat."You haven't been here since last Wednesday," he stated.

"No...I haven't," John said quietly not even bothering to ask how he knew he was far more interested in finding out how the hell he was alive.

Sherlock threw his jacket onto the chair before heading to the bathroom. He needed a shower, he needed to get rid of that smell...the strong disinfectant smell that seemed to cling to his nostrils.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"For a shower isn't it obvious," he said going into the bathroom letting the door slam shut behind him.

John began making tea for them. "You want anything to eat?" John asked looking slightly surprised when Sherlock said yes as he came out in his dressing gown and sat on the couch.

"Alright, what would you like?" he asked.

"Well given the bread will be off a sandwich is out, I'll also pass on the tea or coffee as their will be no milk or rather no drinkable milk, no fresh edible foods infact the only edible thing in the kitchen at the moment is the biscuits so two custard creams will be fine," he answered.

"Eh, right," John uttered sitting his own tea and biscuits on the table. He sat opposite Sherlock staring at him as he waited for him to tell him how he was still alive.

"What?" he eventually asked.

"What do you mean what? You know bloody well what!" John snapped.

"Oh, you mean how am I still alive even after you saw and infact confirmed that I was medically dead?" he said said calmly.

"Yes that!" he snapped.

"Observe John! Once again you look but you don't see!" he answered.

"Then tell me, show me," John said frustratedly.

"No," he stated.

"What?" John demanded.

"My answer was simple enough. I fail to see what could possibly have confused you. Like I said John think and observe the answer was there all the time for God sake you actually saw it," he said impatiently. He shook his head frustratedly as he saw John staring at him in confusion. "Think about it John, I look forward to hearing your many incorrect theories before you stumble on one that is somewhat close," he said.

"If I supply one will you tell me how you did it?" John pressed.

"Perhaps, yes," he said in a tone that indicated the discussion was over.

"Can you at least tell me where you have been until now?" he pressed.

"Hospital," he said calmly. He knew John would instantly think it was because of the 'fall' and he was happy to let him think that and it should add a few more crazy theories from him as to how he did it.

"Hospital?" John repeated urgently.

"Yes, you are being even more dim witted that usual today" he commented afterall John didn't need to know the real reason he had been in hospital...at least not yet. "Oh and John, you might want to do the shopping," he said as he headed towards his bedroom leaving John staring after him in disbelief.

**I promise the next chapter will explain more about what is wrong with Sherlock and how he plans to rebuild his reputation after The Reichenbach Fall. Again please review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Thank you so much for your reviews they mean so much to me please keep them coming as I love to know what you think of this. I am sorry that Sherlock seemed a little mean in the last chapter but he is pretty cold with John at times even when he does care. He is a little nicer in this chapter but not nice as sadly I don't think Sherlock ever comes under the category of nice. Anyway on to the chapter hope you like it and please review! Sorry guys posting this again as realised I made a silly typo thanks to****Isayan** **and I realised I misspelled Moriarty's name the whole way through so that's been sorted now!**

**Disclaimer**

**Sadly I still don't own Sherlock, or Benedict or Martin it really is depressing!**

John looked at Sherlock expectantly as he finished speaking. "Come on that's got to be it hasn't it?" he said as Sherlock declined to respond.

"No, not even close," he said with a slight smirk.

"What...really, alright, well it must have something to do with..." he began before Sherlock cut him off.

"Alright John that's enough, new rule only one theory per day I don't think I can listen to any more than one of your theories a day. Especially if they are all going to be of the same quality as the one involving two cars and a bus was it? Come on John think it really isn't that difficult," he said.

"Then help me Sherlock give me a clue come on we can't all be as brilliant as you," John said

"Fine at the end of each week I shall give you a clue," he agreed.

"Week? What you think it is going to take me weeks to work it out?" John demanded.

"Yes, why do you think you will work it out sooner?" Sherlock asked.

John thought about it a moment before answering. "I suppose not, no," he conceded.

"Anyway we have more pressing things to address," Sherlock said moving to take a much needed drink of coffee he still felt horrifically tired he thought that would have worn off by now. He could also feel another headache starting to build behind his eyes but now wasn't the time to focus on that as he'd said there were important things to address.

"Hang on, can I just ask you one thing?" John interrupted.

Sherlock gave a sound of agreement willing himself not to shut his eyes and give into the tiredness and headache.

"Why did you want me to think you were dead? Why did you put me through that and you can't try and say that I don't matter you said yourself that I'm your friend," he said quietly.

"You needed to believe it to keep Moriarty's men away from you. I had to keep you safe. I had to keep you believing until you were caught remember I already told you that he never works alone," he said.

"Where are they now? Moriarty's men I mean?" John asked.

"Gone, now that they know Moriarty is dead they have all gone underground any motivation for the to carry on for him is gone, nothing in it for them now so problem solved," he answered.

"Right, so that's it then it's all over with Moriarty?" he asked.

"For now yes but you should never make assumptions or jump to conclusions it can be dangerous," he said.

"Right, right I'll remember that," John said.

"Oh and John," he said after a while.

"Yeah?" he asked turning back to look at him.

"I'm sorry, you know for...everything," he said uncomfortably he really wasn't good at things like this.

"It's alright, it's eh, it's good to have you back," he said.

"Right so we best get started we've got a lot to do," Sherlock said.

"We do?" John asked.

"Of course we've got a reputation to rebuild, my reputation to rebuild you've seen the papers," Sherlock said with an air of distaste.

"Yeah, yeah I have," John said carefully he wasn't quite sure how he could recover from that.

"I had to it was the only way, it was all part of the game but now the world needs to know that it was all part of the greatest game ever played," Sherlock said.

"Why did you let that happen? Why did you let him destroy everything?" John pressed thinking there had to be a greater plan that Sherlock just hadn't shared with him.

"It was the only way I could keep you safe I had to keep everyone...I had to keep you away from me you had to believe I was dead and a fake or they would have killed you," he said wearily. For a second John noticed just how tired Sherlock looked, infact he looked almost ill. He wanted to ask him about it but knew right now wasn't the time though a niggling worry in the back of his mind increased when he remembered Sherlock had said himself that he had been in hospital.

"You, you did all that to save us...to save me?" John asked very quietly.

"Yes, obviously I need my blogger don't I? Now can we please get on with the case in hand, restoring my reputation," Sherlock said.

"Right...yes well how do you plan to do that?" he asked.

"The media of course, well that is not strictly true we wont just be using the media of course. I will prove that everything they published about me was untrue," he said.

"Maybe not everything they said was untrue," John said with a trace of a smile causing Sherlock pause.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"What was it the Mirror said again, oh yes an arrogant show off, I believe it was," he said with a smirk as he looked at Sherlock. "No truth in that?" he asked.

"Oh shut up," he said though returned the smile as their eyes met John noticed again just how pale and utterly exhausted he looked and he looked even thinner than normal.

"Sherlock are you..." he began before he was cut off.

"Wanting to get to work, yes," he said in a tone that suggested the only thing he was going to talk about right now was work. John took the hint for now but planned on keeping a close eye on him and refused to allow him to continue to neglect his health he had already lost him he didn't want to go through that again.

"How do you plan to get the media on your side then Sherlock because no offence but you are not always the best at getting on with other people," he said carefully.

"That's because the rest of the world are so incredibly slow and dim witted," he said dismissively.

"See that, that is exactly what i'm talking about," John said wearily.

"Right okay well how about I get the proof and we can send it to the papers you can put some of it up on your blog seeing as people seem to read that and I'll include include it on my website that ought to get the cases flowing in again," he said.

"Alright but we still might want to work on responses to the press if they ask you anything about this because you know they will," he said.

"I'll just be myself," he said with a shrug.

"No! No that isn't the best idea you remember what happened the last time you were yourself," John warned.

Sherlock gave a slight sound of reluctant agreement before answering. "Then what do I say?" he asked slightly wearily he was starting to find it difficult to keep his usual level of intense concentration on their conversation.

"Sherlock are you sure you're alright?" John asked getting ready to go into full 'doctor mode' as Sherlock referred to it as.

"What? Oh i'm fine," Sherlock said forcing his mind back onto the conversation. He didn't have time for this especially not right now he couldn't be betrayed again by his body. John wasn't sure he quite believed him but knew Sherlock well enough to know he wouldn't get any more answers out of him.

"We need to think of a good statement for you to make to the papers," John said thoughtfully. "We need to think of something for you to say before you can provide them with the proof they need then something for you to say after you have shown them the proof, what is this proof by the way?" John asked curiously.

"You'll see," Sherlock said making the face that John found so frustrating yet a few weeks ago would have given anything to see.

"No Sherlock I wont see. You need to tell me. If you want me to help you, you need to stop acting so damn mysterious and tell me what you are planning," John stated.

"Fine," Sherlock said willing his mind to focus. His mind was his best asset he refused to allow his body to get in the way of that the fuzzy feeling invading his mind was getting harder to ignore but he had to fight past it. He had said to John before his body was just transport he refused to let it get in the way of what he did best, his work. "We can disprove everything that Moriarty said well of course not everything he said that would just be ridiculous," he said pausing a moment to try and regain his thoughts.

"Sherlock?" John prompted as he fell silent for a bit too long. Long silences were common for Sherlock but he wanted to know what he was planning.

"Sorry," he said dragging his attention back getting increasingly frustrated with himself. "We can disprove his biggest stories that he worked in children's television one call to a few television networks can disprove that. Television companies keep extensive records of all their employees so we email them Moriarty's picture to see if it matches anyone on their databases which will of course have pictures, come on it is television afterall. Then we can disprove he ever worked in television or any other kind of media using the same procedure then when of course this comes up blank it shows he never was a failed actor. Simple really and again it shows the great incompetence of our police force but what do we expect really when they employ people like Anderson," he said.

"Is that going to be enough though?" John asked.

"It is enough to get people wondering isn't it? People are never too sure of me are they so it should be enough to get things back to where they were before all this," Sherlock answered he was really struggling to think. He knew that alone wasn't going to be enough to restore his reputation but it was a good enough start the rest would come with the next case.

"How will you convince the police there is no way Lestrade is going to let you near a crime scene now," he pointed out.

"They know the cases I solved were not fake they have the evidence infront of them they have admitted themselves they need me and once I have the media have me onside again they will come back," he said confidently.

"You really think the police are so easily swayed by the press?" John asked sceptically he couldn't see how it could all be so simple how such a simple thing could turn all this round not when he had been at the centre of the ruins.

"Of course they are," Sherlock stated.

"Why would it be such a simple thing that can disprove everything he said about you Sherlock? If he wanted to completely destroy your reputation why would he make it so easy to resolve?" John asked.

"It's all still part of his game don't you see? Stupid question of course you don't, he muttered.

"Then for God sakes tell me!" John snapped.

"Moriarty is still alive and wants to play a new game at some point, but I had to see this game out to the end with the death and now you know the reasons why," Sherlock said forcing the weariness from his voice.

"Wait, Moriarty is still alive?" John asked panic leaking into his voice. If he was still alive then what was the point of all this.

"All part of the game John," Sherlock said quietly.

John was quiet a moment as he watched him wondering how much he knew about Mycroft and how he would or did feel about it their relationship was impossible to decipher it could keep his psychologist occupied for weeks. Sherlock, John thought wryly a psychologist's dream...or worst nightmare.

"Sherlock..." John began not really sure how to bring this up to him or what to say.

Sherlock looked up. "John, if this is about Mycroft, I know," he said quietly.

"You know?" John asked in disbelief.

"Yes, of course I know," he said calmly.

"How do you feel about it, are you okay?" John asked.

"Of course i'm okay, I told him to do it," he answered.

"You what?" John asked in disbelief.

"I told him to do it, I knew what Moriarty was planning and I knew what I had to do," he said calmly.

"Right so, the press what do we say to them?" John asked still trying to get his head round this.

"I thought you would be better at working that out while I get to work on providing the proof," Sherlock answered getting himself to a stand.

"Right, alright," John agreed nodded. "Sherlock!" he called before he could leave the room.

"What?" he asked.

"I thought I'd make sandwiches for dinner," John said.

"Sandwiches?" Sherlock repeated.

"That's what I said isn't it," John said with a slight smile. He was determined to help Sherlock eat a normal amount. Eating smaller meals regularly was the most advised method so he was determined to give it a try.

"Bit different for you isn't it?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, well I thought it might be nice," he said shrugging.

"Or you thought you would try to get me to eat more by trying the age old trick of eat little and often. Come on John you are a doctor and a good one at that you can surely come up with something better than that and as I have already told you eating doesn't interest me," he stated.

"I don't care if it interests you or not Sherlock you need to eat!" he snapped he was worried by how desperately gaunt he looked.

"I'm fine!" Sherlock said again heading towards his room.

"Sandwiches for tea alright, or I go into full doctor mode, you know Sherlock not eating correctly affects the human body in many different ways including..." he began with a smile.

"Alright, alright," Sherlock said waving his hands to make him shut up though couldn't help smiling a little perhaps John had learned something from working with him afterall. He went into his bedroom leaving John to work.

He knew he had to get to work on providing the proof that would kick start his work again but he couldn't focus right now. He had been trying to fight it all day but it was getting stronger and it was getting harder to focus. He sat on the edge of his bed not really sure what he was doing anymore or how much time had passed. He could feel himself starting to panic as the tingling feeling spread through his body and the smell, the smell was back with the strange taste in his mouth. He was trying to control his breathing he knew harsh breathing wasn't going to help this. He was starting to feel more and more confused as coherent thought alluded him.

"Sherlock, dinner come on you know the deal," John called as again Sherlock failed to respond. "For God Sake," he muttered eventually knocking on Sherlock door. "I know you can hear me so would you just bloody answer," he said. He was starting to get a little concerned now as he still failed to answer. "Sherlock? Sherlock are you alright? Right i'm going to come in okay?" he said opening the door.

He gasped as he saw Sherlock. He was sitting rigidly on the edge of the bed , his whole form was shaking horridly. His skin was horridly white and beaded with perspiration and his breathing was horrifically off kilter.

"Dammit Sherlock," John uttered as he hurried over to him. He knelt down beside him. "Sherlock, Sherlock can you hear me?" he asked trying to get him to focus on him. "Sherlock what have you done? What is it, what's wrong?" he asked pausing as he heard Sherlock trying to speak.

He frowned slightly as Sherlock wasn't making a lot of sense it was clear he was very confused, a very disturbing thing to see in Sherlock Holmes. He was starting to seriously consider phoning an ambulance if he couldn't get him to come round soon.

He felt panic grip at his chest as he his eyes fell on a few orange pills that surrounded his bed and feet. He remembered Lestrade hinting to the fact that Sherlock had a drug problem but naturally Sherlock had refused to talk about it and he had never seen anything that suggested he had a problem with drugs. The biggest addiction he had in his opinion was to cigarettes. He leaned over and picked up the tablets to examine them close. It couldn't be...what was going on here...he looked at Sherlock with fresh faced determination now he was more aware of what was wrong with him.

Sherlock jerked suddenly as he slowly became more aware of his surroundings. "John what are you doing in here?" he demanded not liking the disadvantage he was at.

"Sherlock just sit or better yet lie down alright," John said quietly.

"No," he snapped.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" John said as he sat opposite him in the living room as Sherlock had been too stubborn to stay in bed. He needed to take the tablets but he couldn't as John wouldn't leave him alone for two minutes.

"Nothing is going on would you just leave it," Sherlock snapped.

"No I bloody well won't leave it Sherlock," he said as he showed him the pills in his hands. "Now will you tell me what the hell is going on?" he said looking at him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**In this chapter we will find out what is wrong with Sherlock! I watch Star Trek Into the Darkness earlier this week I actually really enjoyed it and all I can say is hello Mr Cumberbatch! I really hope that you like this chapter. Thank you so much for your reviews they mean so much to me. Please keep them coming I really want to know what you all think of this! I have reread this chapter and caught some spelling and punctuation errors but don't know that I caught them all. I am going to be looking for a beta for all future chapters. If anyone is interested please let me know, thank you!**

**Disclaimer**

**I still own nothing apart from the DVDS **

"Well are you going to tell me what's going on?" John asked as Sherlock maintained a stony silence that he knew he was stubborn enough to keep up for hours or even days if he wished.

"You are a doctor John, make your own deductions," Sherlock responded in an unreadable tone.

John knew little of Sherlock's past but Mycroft and even Sherlock himself had hinted that he had dabbled with narcotics so naturally his mind went to that but it couldn't be. Sherlock had been doing so well and had shown no symptoms of being on drugs or craving any drugs, the only thing he had seen him crave was cigarettes.

He forced himself to see past the intense worry for his friend and actually think about this, afterall as Sherlock had pointed out he was a doctor. He looked again at the tablets in his hand they didn't look like any drug he had even seen but then he hadn't seen that many drugs and God knows what kind of drug Sherlock could deem necessary as part of some experiment. He looked closer at the pills they almost looked like...but they couldn't be, could they? How could he not have noticed? He was supposed to be a doctor! He looked closer at the tablets and saw the small engravings that confirmed the tablets' identity. How could he have missed this?

"You have arrived at a solution, lets hear it, it must be better than the solutions you have provided to how I survived," he said quietly.

"The tablets are Tegretol which are used to control seizures, most commonly used to control epilepsy, are you telling me that you are epileptic and you never told me?" John demanded as the reality of this set in.

"I haven't actually told you anything John," Sherlock corrected.

"How long have you had it?" he demanded ignoring his comeback.

"Long enough," Sherlock said almost icily John could tell he didn't like talk about this but frankly right now he didn't care.

"So you do have epilepsy?" John pressed.

"Yes, obviously," he snapped.

"So how long have you had it?" he asked again.

"Is that relevant?" Sherlock asked.

"I'd say so yeah," John answered.

"Fifteen years," Sherlock said evenly.

_He had been suffering headaches for some time now, that in itself was not a cause for concern, he had always suffered bad headaches. He put this down to the fact that everyone kept trying to fill his mind with information that was of no importance to him and therefore distracted him from the things he felt he really did need to know. It took him hours to sift through everything that his mind retained and delete everything that was irrelevant leaving only the important things, it was no wonder he suffered headaches._

_It was the other symptoms he was starting to display that were causing him concern. He found there were large amounts of time that he was unable to account for. He didn't like that he was always in control but he knew something was going on inside him that he couldn't control. The knowledge of that alone was almost as unsettling as the confusion he was experiencing._

_He tried everything that he could to beat whatever was causing this but it was becoming harder to control he was starting to lose control of his thoughts at times. He experienced intense feelings of depression or euphoria that were often unlinked to what he was doing at the time. He was determined to beat this his mind was fast becoming his greatest asset he refused to allow anything to compromise it._

"_Sherlock? Sherlock, what have you done this time?" a voice demanded standing over him. Sherlock willed his mind to clear so he could function and work out what was happening. Why was he on the floor and what was that smell? He frowned slightly as he realised he had vomited. What had happened to him. He was still struggling to think clearly, his thoughts felt jumbled and mixed up and not entirely his own. He wished that voice would stop, he needed to think!_

_He tried to get up slowly, as his thoughts were slowly starting to clear he realised it was Mycroft standing over him and that he was currently lying on the floor of his bedroom in a pool of his own vomit._

_He swatted his hands away as he tried to help him up. "Leave me alone," he said alarmed to hear the slur in his voice._

"_What is wrong with you Sherlock? What have you done?" Mycroft demanded trying to keep the worry out of his voice. He had seen his brother in a variety of states due to his 'experiments' but never anything like this. He had thought his brother was acting different lately but with Sherlock it was hard to tell. He had a feeling this was something more than one of his 'experiments' backfiring. _

"_What's wrong Sherlock?" he asked more softly as he was forced to accept his help to sit on his bed._

"_Nothing, i'm fine," Sherlock uttered. He refused to answer any more questions on what had happened to him and how he could claim to be fine given the state he had found him in. _

_Eventually Mycroft had been forced to let the matter drop but he kept a closer eye on his brother regardless of Sherlock's open fury and demands that he left him alone._

_It was after the second time he found Sherlock in the same position that he told their mother and against Sherlock's protests he was taken to hospital. He remembered little of the tests they ran on him and number of times they sent him home before the same thing happened again, before he was eventually diagnosed with epilepsy. _

_It was better once he knew what was causing his symptoms, it meant that he could do something about it. They tried him on many different types of medication before finding the one that worked for him. The medication allowed his mind to remain clear and lessened the seizures though failed to stop them completely. The diagnosis left him with one particularly irritating side effect, his brother now seemed to feel it was his job to look after him._

"This, well this actually explains a lot," John said looking at him.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked with an edge to his voice.

"Well I mean you have always been somewhat of a puzzle and this helps slot a few of those pieces into place," he answered.

"How so?" Sherlock asked dully.

"It explains long silences you have where you refuse to talk for days and the mood swings those are classic symptoms of absences or petit mal attacks," he answered. A look crossed Sherlock's features but John ignored it. "Are your seizures under control?" he asked.

"They have considerably lessened," he said.

"So you still take seizures and you never thought to mention it?" he snapped. "Does Lestrade know?" he demanded.

"Of course not, don't be stupid," Sherlock snapped.

"Sherlock do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" John exclaimed.

"Why i'm fine and you will not tell him," he said in a tone that made it clear it wasn't up for discussion.

He sighed. "Fine, I wont say anything but you really need to be careful," he said quietly.

"I am," he said simply. The look on his face told John that amazingly he did trust him, he was all too aware of how big a deal that was for Sherlock.

"Is that why you don't drive?" John asked suddenly. He had wondered why Sherlock didn't have a car especially after he had seen him drive. He had often thought it would be easier for him to drive given the nature of his work.

"Yes," Sherlock said in a forced calm tone.

"You know that you still take seizures yet you drove a car? Why didn't you let me drive?" John demanded.

"I wanted to drive," he said simply.

"You said you were in hospital you know after..." he trailed off a moment it still pained him to think of that time he had spent believing his best friend was dead.

"Yes," Sherlock reluctantly agreed.

"Was it for this? What are the doctors saying? How could I have missed this? I am supposed to be a doctor and your friend. How could I have missed this..what kind of doctor am I to have missed something this significant?" he asked concern lacing his features.

"Why are you making this all about you? You did not know because I did not wish you to know. Do not make this about your shortcomings, though I am sure you have many, your skills as a doctor is not one them. So please stop making this about you. I thought it was supposed to be me that was the arrogant one. I no longer wish to discuss this John, or should I say Doctor Watson based on how you are acting right now," he said.

John allowed himself a slight smile at that comment before continuing, "I don't care if you don't want to talk about it Sherlock. You have kept this from me long enough. We are going to talk about this whether you like it or not," he said firmly.

"Fine, but only the essentials," he said at last.

"You said you were just in hospital, was it because of this?" he asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said.

John bit down his anger as Sherlock refused to elaborate. He didn't care how much he didn't want to talk about it, this time he had no choice. "Why?" he asked forcing Sherlock to meet his eyes. Why with a man of Sherlock's great intellect fail to understand that he asked because he cared about him?

"They wanted to run some tests so they can change my dosage," he answered.

"Why?" John asked again trying to keep the worry out his tone.

"It's not as effective as it should be, obviously," he said as though it were obvious.

"Your seizures are becoming more regular?" he asked. How could he have missed this...what kind of friend and what kind of doctor was he? His mind flitted back to all the time he spent alone in his room when he thought he'd been working, shame flooded through him.

"Yes," he said.

"Have they come up with a suitable treatment plan? Look if you just took bloody better care of yourself maybe they would lessen more. If you would eat and sleep properly it would make a big difference surely they must tell you that and why the bloody hell didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

"You know why," he said mildly.

John sighed he knew it was because he knew he would fuss and worry about him but he was his friend of course he was going to worry about him. "I'm your friend Sherlock, of course I am going to worry," he pointed out.

"I already have a brother who fusses annoyingly over me for this I do not need another person added to that list, and that isn't the only reason I didn't tell you" he said in a clipped voice.

"Mycroft knows?" he asked in slight surprise though he wasn't sure why he was his brother afterall.

"Yes," he answered.

"Why else wouldn't you tell me?" he asked.

Sherlock sighed. "You did what I knew you would do, though you are not alone it is what everyone who has had to find out does," he said.

"What?" John asked confused.

"You take everything that I do and fit it into the epilepsy," he said bitterly.

"No I didn't," John protested.

"Yes you did, the driving though I suppose I will give you that one as it was the only one that was due to this, this condition but the others the way I act are nothing to do with the epilepsy. I will not be defied by it, those actions came purely from me," he said heatedly,

"I...you're right i'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that I was just...I was jut trying to work out how I had missed this, but you are right, i'm sorry," he said seriously.

"It's fine apology accepted now can we please move on?" Sherlock asked.

"In a minute, but first you need to promise me you will take better care of yourself and tell me what is going on with this so that I can help you and I promise not to fuss, too much, deal?" John asked.

"Deal," Sherlock said with a trace of a smile.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" John asked.

"If you must," he said with a slight smile.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he asked.

"No, you are a doctor I figured if anything happened you would know what to do, a doctor for a flatmate has to have some advantages," he answered.

"You are unbelievable," John uttered as he met his eyes causing both of them to laugh.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Thank you so much for your kind reviews they mean so much to me! Please keep them coming I'd really like to know what you think!**

**Disclaimer**

**I still own nothing and this still makes me sad!**

"John, this would go a lot easier if you would focus," Sherlock pointed out.

"It's a lot to get my head around in a short space of time, cut me a bit of slack Sherlock," John protested.

"Hours after we met you agreed to move into my flat, chase a criminal round London and make a miraculous recovery from your psychosomatic limp yet this is a lot to take in?" Sherlock asked with a smirk.

"Even so, this is still a lot to take in," John argued.

"Fine, what can we do to make you more focused? We can't possibly do this when you are incapable of focusing on anything for any longer than three seconds," Sherlock said wearily.

"Where do you want me to start?" John asked in slight disbelief.

"By telling me what is making you so distracted then we sort it so we can get back to work. I would have thought that was obvious," he answered.

"I'm worried about you. You have told me you have a serious medical condition and are now refusing to talk about it," he said trying to keep the depth of his concern from his voice especially as he noticed the constant slight tremor in his friend's hands.

"You know everything that you need to know .and that I can tell you at the moment. I am hoping the medication change will reduce the seizures again," he said.

"Promise me you will stop hiding it from me and let me try and help," John pressed.

"John, we are wasting precious time! I have already agreed to this so long as you don't fuss, now lets move on, next problem," Sherlock instructed.

John sighed but answered his question. "You don't know what it was like thinking you were dead and thinking that your brother had sold you out like that. I couldn't get the image of you jumping off that roof out my head, it haunts me," he said with a slight shudder.

"I'm sorry about that John but I did what needed doing. I had to keep you all safe," he said hoping this discussion would be over soon he wasn't very good at this sort of thing.

"I think I know what might help," John said eventually.

"Finally! What is it?" Sherlock asked.

"I think we should go speak to your brother. I want to hear it from him, from both of you what happened," John said.

"John, that really isn't necessary, we have too much to do to waste time on my dear brother," Sherlock argued.

"You asked me what would help and this is it," John said calmly.

"Fine but lets make this quick," Sherlock snapped standing. He pulled his coat and scarf on trying to ignore the sickening headache pounding through his skull that was guaranteed to get worse in the presence of his brother.

"Right, you alright?" John asked looking at him.

"Fine, now come on!" Sherlock said. He really didn't need another person fussing over him, yet somehow John's gentle concern didn't feel quite as oppressive as his brothers but still not something he felt totally comfortable with. He was used to getting by on his own, it would take a lot to change that. "John?" he said after a moment.

"Yeah?" he asked zipping up his jacket.

"It's just a headache," he said quietly, almost uncertainly as if unsure if he should be divulging this information.

John looked at him and nodded. "It can be common when they change your medication doses do painkillers work? If they do take them, no point being your usual stubborn self over this and lets face it, if we are going to see your brother, you are going to need the painkillers," John said with a slight smile. He slipped out the room a moment giving him the chance to take the tablets in privacy. Sherlock noticed, John really did under estimate his abilities at times but he was still grateful as he swallowed the two painkillers with some water.

"Right, lets go," Sherlock said buttoning his coat as John came back into the room.

"John, Sherlock what brings you here?" Mycroft asked as they sat in his living room.

"I'm not here by choice, trust me," Sherlock said sitting.

"Then what are you doing here?" Mycroft asked.

"Ask him," Sherlock answered.

"John?" Mycroft enquired.

"I...I want you to tell me what happened. Tell me what Sherlock told you to say. Tell me why you knew what was going on while I was kept in the dark," John stated struggling not to yell.

"Is that it? I thought my brother could have told you all that," Mycroft said quietly.

"I did but seems he would rather hear it from you. He doesn't trust you. It must be all your over the top almost Mafia antics," Sherlock said sounding almost bored.

"Are you really one to comment on over the top antics, dear brother? Mycroft asked mildly.

"Yet it's me he trusts, what can we deduce from that?" Sherlock asked dully.

"I'll leave the deductions to you, seeing as you enjoy that sort of thing," Mycroft said.

"Can we get to the point," Sherlock briskly interrupted.

"What exactly is the point?" Mycroft asked.

"Why you? What was it Sherlock asked you to do? How do I know that you did what he asked and didn't deviate from his plan to suit yourself?" John asked looking at Mycroft. Sherlock kept silent but was amazed at John's loyalty to him.

"My position within the government has certain advantages for my brother. Jim Moriarty is aware of my position and how I tire of my brother's antics and worry about the ramifications it could have on my career," he said with a pointed look to his brother. When he received no reaction he continued speaking. "Naturally he reached out to me when looking to destroy my brother's reputation."

"Didn't Moriarty consider that Sherlock might work out what he was planning, he is known for that afterall," John pointed out.

"Yes, but he never thought I would provide him with the truth. When he got that, he thought he had finally got the better of my brother," Mycroft said calmly.

"You just agreed to all this even although you knew what it would do to him?" John demanded.

"It was the only way.." he began before John cut him off.

"No, no it wasn't the only way!" he argued.

"Yes it was, please let me finish before you start shouting at me. As I am sure Sherlock has already told you he knew what Moriarty was planning and had to stay at least two steps ahead of him. I told him what Sherlock told me to tell him, nothing more. Hard though it may be for you to believe Doctor Watson I do care about my brother," he said quietly.

"Happy now? Can we go now?" Sherlock asked

"Can I not finish my tea first?" John asked also eyeing up the plate of biscuits on the table.

"We have tea at the flat ! Come on John we have lots to, do lets go!" Sherlock said impatiently. This had been delayed long enough there were things to be done.

"Alright," John said sighing. He knew there was no stopping Sherlock when he got like this and he had to admit he was more than glad that he was here for him to be weary of his actions.

"Before you go brother, are you sure you are well?" Mycroft asked looking at his brother carefully.

"I'm fine," Sherlock said crisply as he pulled his scarf on.

"Are you sure, afterall your..." he was instantly cut off by Sherlock.

"I'm fine, I'll be even better when John and I can get back to work," he said refusing to be pulled into the discussion.

"Call mother, she worries," Mycroft called to his brother's retreating back.

"What exactly is your relationship with your mother?" John asked.

"We don't talk very often why were you looking to meet her? Come home for dinner to be introduced?" he asked with a smirk.

"No, no, then people would definitely talk and that isn't the press we are looking for right now," John said.

"Why, are you ashamed of me?" Sherlock responded causing both of them to laugh.

"Sherlock have you told Mrs Hudson you are still alive?" John asked on their way back to Baker Street.

"No, but I will," he said calmly.

"Sherlock! Why haven't you told her?" John demanded.

"She hasn't been here to tell," Sherlock answered.

As they arrived at 221b Baker Street they saw Mrs Hudson arriving back from visiting her sister. "Perfect timing, come on," John said looking to him.

"John..." he began to protest but stopped himself. He knew there would be no way of getting John to concentrate until he had done this. Sherlock paid the driver and headed with John up to Mrs Hudson's flat.

Sherlock knocked on the door while John called out for her. She gasped slightly on hearing his voice the last she had heard he had moved out a while but was still refusing to let her sell the flat. He said he intended to keep paying the rent. She wondered how he had planned on paying two rents but these boys often did things that she would never understand. "Just a second," she called. She opened the door and froze as she took in the sight before her. "Sherlock?" she near screamed in shock.

"Yes now please be quiet! Can we come in?" Sherlock asked already moving closer to her door before she had the chance to shakily nod.

"Thank you," John said as he and Sherlock stepped inside.

"Sherlock what are you doing here? We thought you were...well you know... how are you?" she asked confused. She longed to hug the man before her. She found him insufferably irritating at times yet she loved him almost like a son.

"That doesn't matter Mrs Hudson what does matter is that i'm back," he said evasively.

"How could you do this to us Sherlock? To let us think you were dead you should have seen the state poor John was in. I have rarely seen a man so down," she scolded.

"Yes Mrs Hudson, alright," John said embarrassedly.

She watched the men before her. She had learned long ago that asking questions was pointless even in something like this. She told herself the main thing was that he was alive and well. She looked closely at him thinking he looked a little pale again but he was alive that was what mattered. "Well it is nice to have you back Sherlock," she said not really sure what else to say.

"I was shocked too," John said smiling slightly at her but then where Sherlock was involved he wasn't sure why they were still shocked by his antics.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Mrs Hudson asked at last.

"No time Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock said.

"What do you mean no time?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Things to do Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock said kissing her cheek before heading for the door again with John.

"Bye," John said to her as she watched them leave shaking her head slightly in disbelief wondering what they would get up to next.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Thank you again for all the reviews they mean so much to me! Please keep them coming I love to know what you think and to know that you are reading this! Thank you!**

**Disclaimer:**

**I still own nothing!**

"Bored!" Sherlock announced for the umpteenth time.

John bit back his frustration, "alright how about this," he said trying a different angle.

"Boring!" Sherlock announced cutting him off before he was even a third of the way through his suggestion walking over the furniture as he made to walk out of the room.

"Sherlock, would you just shut up and listen to me! You are the one who repeatedly pointed out that we have a lot to do and yet you are refusing to actually work with me to get it done!" John snapped frustratedly as Sherlock headed towards his room.

"Sherlock, what are you doing! Come back," John yelled following Sherlock.

"John leave me alone!" Sherlock snapped as John made to enter the room.

"Why? What are you doing in there?" John demanded.

"Nothing just leave me alone I'll be back in a second," he said curtly.

John made to argue with him but then understanding set in. "Sherlock, it's not a big deal, it's hardly a matter requiring such secrecy," he said as he realised Sherlock wanted to be left alone so he could take the tablets to control his epilepsy.

Sherlock emerged from his bedroom his eyes dark. "Just leave it John," he said.

"No I wont just leave it. We have already discussed this, you need to stop shutting me out and actually let me help you," he said.

"People don't help me," he said evenly,

"Well now they do, so stop being so bloody stubborn and get over here so we can actually get some work done," John said.

Sherlock hesitated uncertainly for a moment, he wasn't used to letting people close to him, but then John wasn't most people, he was his friend."I'm used to hiding it, people don't understand, they fuss, treat me differently or try to define me by it I wont have that," he said firmly.

"That's not what's happening here, trust me," he said wondering why Sherlock was acting so defensively.

"I know but I refuse to allow my epilepsy to be used against me as a weakness again," he said.

"When was it used against you?" John asked carefully. It was so rare for Sherlock to open up. He didn't want to risk saying the wrong thing and having him close down again. Sherlock was very quiet for a while making John think he wasn't going to answer. "Sorry, I shouldn't have..." he began before Sherlock shook his head cutting him off.

"Moriarty," Sherlock said with a venom John had never head in his voice. He was used to his condescending impatience with the world at large but never had he heard such deep hatred even in all their previous discussions regarding his Arch Enemy.

"How?" John asked watching Sherlock closely.

"Think about it John, really think about it," Sherlock said forcing some of the hostility from his tone.

"I, I don't see Sherlock, tell me, please?" John said softly worry for his friend building steadily again.

"Think about where his two biggest attempts to beat me have been, a swimming pool and the top of a building," he spat hatred saturating each word. John looked at him in confusion until he looked in his eyes, then he understood. "I see from your face that you now understand."

"He made it in places that you..." he couldn't quite get himself to finish the sentence.

"That I fear most yes! Swimming pools and heights, two places that it could be deadly for me to have a fit. I don't feel comfortable in water or with heights so naturally it was the perfect place for him to make his attack," he said darkly.

"You said the swimming pool was because of that kid...I, I can't remember his name. Why the hell didn't you tell me?" John demanded.

"Carl Powers, his name was Carl Powers, anyway that was part of it but there was more to it that made it all the more perfect. He knew it was the perfect place to catch me off my guard. You know why I didn't tell you, I don't like people knowing," he answered.

"Well it's not being used against you here it's fine, it's all fine," John said calmly.

Sherlock nodded slowly. "Thank you, now shall we get to work?" he asked.

"In a second, just one more thing, then I swear we can get right to work," John said hurriedly upon seeing Sherlock's face.

"What?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"I have another theory," John announced.

"John, this can wait till we are finished!" Sherlock said abruptly.

"No, no it can't, we can get to work just as soon as you hear my theory. I really think I've figured it out this time Sherlock!" John said excitedly as he explained his latest theory. When he was finished he looked at Sherlock expectantly.

"I think your answers are getting worse John," Sherlock said after a moment.

"Then give me another clue!" John argued.

"I've already given you a clue this week!" he stated.

"It's not my fault your clues are bloody useless," John muttered.

"No, it is not my fault if you cannot interpret the clue to help you arrive at the solution. Now we are going to get to work!" Sherlock corrected.

"Fine, but I will get this Sherlock!" John said determinedly.

"I'm sure you will," Sherlock said in an unreadable tone before they set to work.

"Right, well lets get to work. The first thing I am going to do is post a new entry to my blog explaining that you are alive and are ready to work and how sorry you are for fooling everyone into thinking you were dead," he began.

"I'm not sorry I fooled them," Sherlock stated rolling his eyes.

"Sherlock! Would you stop making this so bloody difficult? You must apologise to the public to allow them to trust you again. For once can you stop being so stubborn and trust me on this," John said.

"Are you aware of how often you use the word bloody? It averages at around three to five times a day, more when you are angry or trying to make a point and less when you are trying to make a good impression such as round potential girlfriends or clients. You are an educated man John you really should try to extend your vocabulary," Sherlock observed.

"Sherlock for the last time will you focus! Unlike you I actually do need to get some sleep tonight!" John said starting to get impatient.

"Fine," Sherlock agreed, much to John's surprise he was aware how long it could take Sherlock to get back on track when he had something else to say.

"As I was saying, I will write a blog saying you are sorry and that it was all part of your plan to bring down Moriarty and that you will be providing proof that everything he said about you was a lie. People will see the proof and be that amazed that you are alive that we are bound to find work again," John said with a satisfied smile as he felt the old excitement beginning to stir within him again.

"Have you written the blog yet?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes I have," John said opening the document and turning the laptop towards Sherlock so he could read it.

Sherlock read the blog and nodded slowly,. "Seems alright, though I still can't believe people actually read this thing!" Sherlock said shaking his head.

"Well they do. Have you got the proof about some of Moriarty's claims that you said you were going to send to Lestrade and I need to post on the blog," John said looking to Sherlock.

"Already sent it and if you had checked your emails you would have noticed I sent a copy to you as well," Sherlock said shaking his head at John's lack of observation.

"Oh right," John said finding the email and opening the link.

"Observe John! How many times do I need to say it," Sherlock said.

"Yeah, yeah alright, lets move on shall we," John said cutting him off.

"To what, we have the evidence, isn't that enough?" Sherlock asked irritably.

"We need to go over the statement you will make to the press," John answered.

"Why? We don't need to bother with them, they are all idiots," Sherlock said dismissively.

"You have a bit of a nerve telling me to expand my vocabulary, the amount of time you use the word idiot as an adjective," John stated.

"It is the only word apt to describe them, that or morons would you like me to provide you a list of alternatives adjectives?" Sherlock enquired mildly.

"No! Please don't!" he said quickly.

"I thought not," Sherlock said smugly.

"We need to work on your statement to the press. We need them back on our side Sherlock," John said somewhat nervously. He was all too aware of Sherlock's terrifying lack of social skills at times.

"Then what do I need to say to them?" Sherlock asked wearily he had no interest in saying anything to the press, well anything that John would be happy with him saying to them. "Wont the blog and the police clearing my name be enough? The public are stupid enough to trust what the police say aren't they," Sherlock pointed out.

"People do trust the police yes but they need to hear it from you Sherlock. You know that so will you stop fighting me on this and we can get your statement ready. You have said yourself we have a lot of work to do," John said.

"Alright, alright lets just get on with it shall we," he said relenting.

"That is what I've been trying to say. I think we should keep it very similar to my blog entry saying how you are sorry to fool everyone but it was necessary as part of your plan to take care of a criminal. If they ask you for details just say you can't provide full details but they can see the evidence of your innocence my the blog and that you are now ready to return to work again," John said.

"Right fine it seems pointless but you are so insistent on this I will do it. I need the cases, I need my work!" Sherlock said as he stood to leave the room.

"Hang on, we're not finished," John called.

"Yes we are, it is hardly a soliloquy I am sure I can remember what you have told me to say," Sherlock said.

"I am sure you can but we need to talk about how you present yourself to the press," he stated.

"I'll just be myself," Sherlock said as if this resolved the issue.

"I thought we had already resolved this, you being well, you doesn't always come across very well," he said wearily.

"Then what do you want me to do?" Sherlock demanded testily.

"You need to be nice Sherlock. You need to sound sincere even if you don't mean it, act it. I know you can act any part that you need to. I have seen you do it on various cases so just do the same thing here. Trust me on this Sherlock, this is what we need to do," John said.

"What about you? Where do you plan to fit yourself into all this if I do it?" Sherlock asked.

"Apart from the blog I will also release a statement to the press about how I never lost faith in you and how we all need to trust you now and again help remind everyone that you are innocent and ready to accept cases again," John answered.

"Interesting cases only. I didn't come to work to accept the mindless pointless problems people come to me to complain about," Sherlock muttered.

"You haven't changed a bit," John said laughing slightly.

"Of course I haven't! Why would I change," Sherlock retorted.

Later that night after John posted the blog Sherlock's phone rang. "Ah, Lestrade what took you so long?" Sherlock demanded.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Thank you all for your reviews they really do mean so much to me! Please keep them coming I love to know that you are reading this and what you think. I am sorry that this chapter is a little shorter but the next one will be longer this just seemed the logical place to end the chapter.**

**Disclaimer**

**All I own is the DVDS, a calender (that I am so impressed with!) and BBC companion book to the series but sadly Sherlock and John still don't actually belong to me.**

"No! It is a stupid idea and will do nothing. I'm not doing it!" Sherlock said staring at John in total disgust.

"Sherlock can you just trust me on this?" John said wearily.

"No, i'm not doing it! It wont make any difference other than making me look like a complete idiot!" Sherlock snapped.

"Stop being so..." he paused just stopping himself from saying 'bloody' after Sherlock's comments on how often he used the word.

"Bloody, I believe the word you were going to use was bloody," Sherlock said mildly.

"Can we stop arguing about this and can you just trust me on this then we can get back to work that is what you want isn't it," John reasoned.

"Yes but I don't see why this is needed," Sherlock complained.

"It is to get people back on your side, to get the cases in. It doesn't need to be for a long time. It will take just two seconds," John said.

"You know how much I hate that hat," Sherlock grumbled.

"I know but it's only for a few minutes just pop the hat on at the end of the interview and it will help get them back on your side. I have a feeling we will need all the help we can get given the way you are with the public," he said.

"I'll do it but on one condition," Sherlock said grudgingly.

"What?" John asked warily. He was surprised Sherlock had agreed he had thought he would have refused for hours maybe even days he thought it would be the need to work again that would eventually weaken his stubbornness,

"Give me one," he said simply.

"No! You have been doing really well," John said firmly.

"If you really expect me to do this then I need one. Yet again your lack of observation skills have let you down. I haven't been doing well. I have started smoking again and right now it really isn't my biggest problem. So for the last time, give me one!" Sherlock said with an edge to his voice.

"What, you're smoking again since when?" John asked shocked.

"From when I realised what Moriarty was planning. Out of everything you have found out, this is what surprises you most?" Sherlock asked in slight amusement.

"If you are smoking again then why are you asking me for a cigarette? Don't you have a pack on you? Not like the great Sherlock Holmes not to be prepared," he pointed out with a smirk.

"Oh shut up, I do have my own but I've run out and can't remember where my emergency supply is so can you get me them please," he said evenly.

John regarded Sherlock a moment before nodding and getting up to get get him his cigarettes. He felt having Sherlock in nicotine withdrawal was not something they needed at the moment. "Here," he said passing Sherlock the packet.

"Thank you," he said taking a cigarette out and lighting it inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs. "You really shouldn't have given me the cigarettes, you should have been encouraging me to quit, really and you call yourself a doctor," Sherlock teased.

"Shut up," John said laughing a bit.

Sherlock looked at John ignoring his expression as he used his discarded breakfast plate as a makeshift ashtray. "So this hat, is it really necessary? There must be some other way we can impress the public seeing as it is so important to you?" Sherlock asked.

"No, so can we just get on so we can get this over with?" John asked standing.

"Fine," Sherlock uttered pulling his jacket on pulling the collar up ignoring John's eye rolling.

"Come on get out, don't start this now," John said as Sherlock was sitting in the back of the taxi refusing to get out repeatedly telling John how stupid this whole thing was. "Sherlock get out the taxi now, come on this is the only way we can get back to work," he tried to reason with him. He had a feeling this wasn't going to be as easy as he'd tried to reassure himself it would be. Sherlock sighed dramatically before getting out and striding ahead leaving John to pay. John shook his head as he paid and hurried to catch up with Sherlock as they headed towards the arranged spot they had agreed to meet the press. He did not think it would be wise to leave Sherlock unsupervised.

Sherlock stood outside the building lighting another cigarette John watched him noticing his hands were shaking slightly. "Don't even ask John," Sherlock said feeling his eyes on him as he finished the cigarette crushing the butt with his heel.

"Okay sorry, lets go," John said as they walked into the building to meet with the press.

They sat infront of the press waiting for their questions after Sherlock and John made their speeches John only had to give Sherlock a few sharp kicks under the table to keep him on script.

"Now for any questions," John said nervously, this was the bit he was dreading he knew what Sherlock was like when he got started.

"Why should we trust you again? How do we know this isn't just another lie?" a reporter asked as a few flashes went off round them as they took pictures.

"Because of what I just said. Weren't you even..." he began.

"Sherlock!" John muttered in his ear.

"I mean, I have shown that I am innocent and I am now ready to prove that by returning to work," he said somewhat grudgingly.

"Was all of this just a big publicity stunt?" a young reporter asked.

"No," Sherlock stated. John exhaled slightly in relief thinking he was going to stop there. "Do you really think I care enough about..."

"Sherlock!" John hissed again kicking him sharply under the table to get him to shut up. "I mean no it wasn't. Moriarty was a smart man but i'm smarter. I did what I needed to do," he answered.

"What can we expect now?" a reporter asked.

"Just that we are back..." Sherlock said getting ready to stand before John nudged him. "I'm back and you know how to get in touch if you need my services and apparently there is a blog too," Sherlock said his hands shaking slightly as he put the deer stalker hat on. He really hated this bloody stupid hat!

"Yes my blog, Doctor John Watson," John interjected hoping the press didn't pick up on the tone Sherlock used when referring to his blog.

The press went wild as he put the hat on. Sherlock and John were blinded by the continuous flash of cameras, each paper wanting their picture of the return of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson and of course the infamous hat!

"That wasn't so bad was it?" John asked as the last of the press left.

Sherlock was quiet almost seeming not to hear him. "Sherlock?" John asked looking at him. "Sherlock, are you alright?" he asked noting the slight vacant look in his eyes and how shaky he looked. "Sherlock, what's wrong? Talk to me. Sherlock can you hear me?" John asked in his 'doctor voice' that usually deeply infuriated Sherlock but at the moment he seemed not to notice or even hear.

"Let's...go," he got out at last his voice sounded detached..distant, something was definitely wrong. Once he was able to think as a doctor and not as his concerned friend it was obvious what was going on. The flashes from the cameras were triggering a fit. He hoped he might be able to bring Sherlock back round but as they were altering his medication the condition wasn't as well controlled as it normally was. Why hadn't he thought about the flashes from the cameras, he was meant to be a doctor! He knew even if Sherlock had considered it, which with his brilliant mind he knew he must of he was too stubborn to say anything.

Sherlock couldn't focus everything felt so strange so distant...and the smell...the smell was back...why couldn't he get his mind to focus...He felt wrong, everything felt so wrong! His breathing became harsh and uneven as these thoughts invaded his clouded mind.

"Sherlock, can you look at me? Sherlock can you hear me?" he asked in a forced calm tone as he moved towards his friend to loosen his shirt collar but Sherlock fought against him mumbling incoherently. It was worrying to see Sherlock of all people like this, so out of control. As a doctor he knew this was a normal symptom of an oncoming seizure but his mind as a friend was battling with his logical side to panic. Sherlock needed him so he had to stay focused and help Sherlock first as a doctor, then as a friend.

He pulled his jacket off laying it on the floor and threw Sherlock's coat onto the floor as well with the hope that he could make the ground a little softer and less dangerous. "It's alright Sherlock, it's fine, everything's fine," he tried to sooth as he tried to help Sherlock onto the pile of coats. He hated how helpless he felt but there was nothing he could do but stay by his side through this.

He kept trying to talk to Sherlock to try and bring him round but deep down he knew it was too late for that. He moved quickly to catch his friend and lay him on the coats as his form suddenly went rigid and he began fitting violently.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Thank you all so much for your reviews it really means so much to me! Please keep them coming I really want to know what you think and that you are reading this. Thank you!**

**Disclaimer**

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John knelt by Sherlock's side ensuring his head was protect by the coats on the ground as he fitted violently. He hated being so useless but as a doctor he knew there was nothing he could do to help him other than ensuring he fitted as safely as possible until he regained consciousness.

He was growing steadily concerned as the fit lasted several minutes and showed no signs of stopping. Concerned etched his tired features as he helplessly watched his friend who s harsh breathing accompanied the violent seizing of his body. He didn't know if Sherlock could hear him but he spoke to him anyway, even if it was to give him a selfish sense of actually being able to do something to help.

"It's alright Sherlock, everything's fine, i'm here," he soothed. He hated himself for saying this as he knew how much Sherlock would hate being patronised by him but he didn't know what else to say. He was there for him and did want to help him, no matter how much Sherlock fought against it.

He was feeling for his mobile to call an ambulance when at last the fitting slowly stopped. He moved closer to Sherlock "It's okay, i'm just moving you into a better position," he said gently moving Sherlock into the recovery position. He didn't think even if he was awake enough he would be coherent enough to comprehend what was being said to him. John told him what he was doing as he did it anyway. It didn't feel right not to tell Sherlock everything that he was doing.

He knelt by Sherlock's side talking calmly to him trying to help him come round more. "Sherlock? Are you alright, can you hear me?" he asked calmly trying not to let panic enter his voice as he got no reaction. He was a doctor, an army doctor he had been trained to distance himself from whatever horror was going on around him to do what needed done. He also knew that Sherlock's symptoms coincided with an epileptic fit but somehow it was harder to keep his professionalism where Sherlock was involved but never had it been more imperative that he did.

"Sherlock?" John asked as he heard slight incoherent sounds coming from him. "It's okay, do you know where you are?" John asked gently thinking that he was starting to come round. "Shit," he cursed as Sherlock gagged and vomited. He moved quickly to ensure he wouldn't choke on it. "It's okay," he uttered again hating how empty and repetitive his words sounded.

Sherlock opened his eyes slowly blinking to bring his surroundings back into focus. He struggled to try and make the thick fog in his brain lift so he could think. What had happened to him? What was going on? Why wouldn't that voice stop talking, so he could think?

He was on the floor in a strange building...he hurt all over, his mind felt fuzzy, his mouth tasted dry and awful...he had taken a fit...where...was anyone there...yes they kept talking...he knew that voice, he had to place it. He had to think, he had to get back in control. He tried to sit up but his body still felt strange and foreign to him.

"Just stay still just now Sherlock, take a moment," the voice said in what he could tell was a forced calm tone. He had no idea how long he had taken but the fog in his mind was starting to lift but not fast enough for his liking. John! It was John that was here with him. He vaguely remembered lots of flashing lights and lots of people talking at once. He had to get off this floor and he had to get back in control.

He moved slowly to try and et to a stand fighting against the heavy dizzy feeling in his head and the lead feeling that had taken over his reluctant to coordinate body as he tried to get to a stand.

John moved quickly to help Sherlock up he could see how unsteady he was as he hadn't quite gained full control of his body but Sherlock kept trying to bat his hands away, frustration building in his tired features as his aim failed to aim true.

"Sherlock stop fighting me and let me help you," John said in a cross between his 'doctor voice' and unmasked concern for his friend.

Sherlock tried to argue with him but it was taking far more energy and concentration than he currently possessed to do both. The desire to get off the floor outweighed his displeasure at accepting help. Sherlock made to get to a stand with John's help but the doctor shook his head at him. "Not quite yet, lets just see how you are sitting first. How do you feel? Do you remember what happened?" John asked slipping into full 'doctor mode.'

Sherlock tried to block out John's persistent questions. He was already feeling embarrassed about what happened. He just needed to get off this floor and get back to his work. "I know what happened. Now can you please help me off this floor so we can get out of here," he said. Each word required great concentration to ensure it came out correctly and to ensure he didn't slur his words as he knew he was prone to do after a seizure.

John looked at him a moment before nodding and helped Sherlock off the floor and guided him towards a nearby chair. "John, we need to go!" Sherlock said sharply he did not want to be fussed over.

"We will in a minute but it would be stupid to move before you are ready. You often remind everyone how much smarter you are then everyone else so do yourself a favour and prove it," John said near pushing him into the chair. Sherlock tried to fight against him but his body still wasn't cooperating so it was easier to just sit.

"Just for a moment until you stop this nonsense, accept that I am fine and we can go," Sherlock said forcing his eyes to stay open as he forced his brain to focus on each word he spoke. He sometimes wondered if this is how it was inside 'ordinary people's' minds.

John was pleased to see him sitting and to see he was starting to become more coherent. He still had a lot of questions for him but now wasn't the time.

Sherlock was working hard to keep his eyes open against the sickening pounding in his head that wasn't helping his already unsettled stomach and the strong urge to sleep. He frowned slightly as the smell of vomit reached his nostrils he hated how his body betrayed him. He took a few deep breaths to help combat the nausea and headache. There was nothing to be gained from continuing to sit here, it was a waste of time. He couldn't summon the energy to tell John exactly why his plan was stupid so he simply told him he was ready to go home.

"Are you sure?" John asked carefully.

"Yes," he said as John scooped up the jackets from the floor then pulled out his phone to call a taxi.

"221B Baker Street please," John said as he and Sherlock got into the back on the taxi. Sherlock had reached over to take his coat and laid it across his knee. He could not stand the idea of John carrying his coat for him like he was a child. He forced himself to keep his eyes open during the ride home.

"Stop staring at me," he said forcing the exhaustion from his voice as he felt John's eyes on him.

John suppressed a sigh and looked out the window. He could understand Sherlock of all people did not want to be fussed over but he also had to accept that he was going to look out for him, it was what friends did and it was about time that Sherlock Holmes learned that.

He forced himself to move when he noticed the taxi had stopped outside their flat. He wasn't sure if John had paid or not and he was not about to make an idiot of himself by attempting to pay for a taxi twice.

He made himself get out the taxi not even sure where John was. He hurt all over as he took a few shaky attempts to get his key in the lock inwardly and perhaps outwardly cursing his body. He gasped slightly as his stomach rebelled again from travelling and he vomited over the street outside his flat. He finally made his way slowly up the stairs every part of his body hurt. John came up the stairs wordlessly behind him making sure he was ready to catch him if he stumbled on the stairs.

When they got into the flat he instinctively wanted to help Sherlock but he knew he had to see what worked best for Sherlock to do after a seizure.

Sherlock dumped his coat onto his chair and headed to his room shutting the door behind him ignoring John's calling after him. He fumbled slightly with his clothes to get them off and managed with great effort to get into his night things and climb under the sheets. He really wanted to lie on the couch like he usually did after a fit but he couldn't stand the idea of John fussing over him. He really needed a drink of water and some painkillers but he couldn't summon the energy to see if he had anything in his room and couldn't face going into the living room and seeing John right now. He shut his eyes falling asleep, the type of sleep he only achieved after a fit. He hated how tired his epilepsy was currently making him, he was wasting so much valuable time but right now he was too tired to care.

John knew Sherlock well enough to know that he clearly wanted to be left alone. He slipped quietly into his room a while later to check on him and to leave a large glass of water and some painkillers by his bed, slipping back out to let him sleep.

He sat in the living room watching television and reading and if he was really honest listening out for Sherlock. As it got later in the evening he wondered if he should wake him to ensure he took his nightly dose of tablets, especially after taking a seizure it was vital that he took them. He gave it another hour but as Sherlock still showed no signs of waking he went into the room again. He gently shook Sherlock's shoulder to try and waken him. "Sherlock," he said as he shook his shoulder but got no response. "Sherlock, I know you are tired but I need you to waken up for me" he said in a louder and firmer voice.

It took a while before Sherlock began to stir he mumbled incoherently. He wished that voice would stop talking so loudly he wanted to sleep! It took a moment for him to realise it was John. What was he doing? Why was he in his room waking him up? "What do you want?" he snapped wincing involuntary at the agony in his head and body but thankfully his mind was starting to become more clear. He was embarrassed to be seen this weak he sat up quickly reaching for the glass of water John had left by his bed and took a long drink from it. He also wanted to take the painkillers but didn't want to be seen any weaker than he already did. "We can talk next door just give me a moment," Sherlock said getting up and quickly pulling his dressing gown on. He strode purposely towards the living room leaving John no choice but to follow in his wake before he could explain what he had wanted.

Sherlock looked expectantly at John as he sat on the couch. "I eh, no I was just waking you so you could take your night tablets, that was all," he explained.

"Why would you do that?" Sherlock asked he wasn't good at dealing with people caring about him.

"It's important Sherlock you know that," John said.

"Why do you care? It doesn't make a difference to you if I take them or not," Sherlock pointed out.

"That's where you are wrong," John stated.

"How?" Sherlock demanded, he didn't like it when people said he was wrong.

"For the last time Sherlock because you are my friend. I understand that you don't want to be fussed over and that is fine but you need to accept that I care about you and worry about you and that I will look out for your interests. You can't argue against it Sherlock because it is what friends do, it's what you did for me," John reminded him.

Sherlock looked at him and nodded slowly "thank you," he said quietly to him before taking his tablets and the painkillers. It may not look like much, or anything to most people but John knew that was Sherlock's way of allowing him slightly closer to him.

"John, one last thing," he said before John went to bed.

"Yeah?" John asked turning back round to face him.

"You got my coat dirty. I wont be able to wear it tomorrow now sometimes you really need to think your actions through," he said with a slight smirk though part of him was slightly irrationally annoyed about his coat.

John laughed slightly. "Maybe I should have just let you hit your head," he said teasingly.

"Night John," Sherlock said laughing slightly with him.

"Night Sherlock," he said sightly vowing to himself that he would by force if necessary ensure that Sherlock took better care of himself.

Sherlock lay on the couch after John went to bed. As sleep washed over him again it was accompanied by the worry of what would happen if his epilepsy did get worse and harder to control. He wouldn't be able to work as he did at the moment. Sherlock needed his work, he could not function without it and could not stand the idea of anything that posed a serious threat to it, especially something that was as maddeningly out of his control as this was.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Thank you so much for your reviews they mean so much to me! Please keep them coming so I can hear your thoughts and even just to let me know you are reading. Go on it will only take a second and will make me so happy! Thank you! Oh and I promise Sherlock is back in the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer**

**I still own nothing!**

It is so much fun to watch, well maybe that is a slight exaggeration. It was fun to watch but I am starting to get bored now. I want to get back into the game, I want to play and I know he does too. He might not know it yet but I do. I know Sherlock Holmes so well, better than he knows himself. It seems the man who claims to be able to deduce everything, doesn't really know everything afterall. I don't see this as a fault as such, a fun weakness perhaps, but not a fault afterall without those little gaps he has there would be no game. I need the game and so does he, even now, perhaps now more than ever.

I am glad he was able to untangle the little web I left him to find the opening that would lead him straight back to me. I sometimes wonder if he ever thought I intended for him to die on that rooftop. I don't think he did but his actions revealed something very interesting to me that make our game all the more interesting. Even although he knew I didn't plan for him to die he still acted in order to save those he considers important to him. This latest development of Sherlock is fascinating to me. He claims he is totally alone in the world and that is the way he likes it, yet his actions on that rooftop and his relationship with this army doctor contradict that. For someone who claims to be so alone in the world Sherlock has a lot of people pulling strings for him, his brother, John Watson, Molly Hooper, Greg Lestrade and Mrs Hudson.

Sherlock never was one to keep thing simple, that's what makes him so interesting and so fun to play with. I worried that this little condition of his may get in the way of our games. I admit this was a momentary weakness on my part as I should have known that Sherlock is too stubborn to allow anything to stand in the way of the game. I can now use this condition of his in the best way, to add to the game, to add to the fun.

I smiled as I read the articles from his latest press appearance and looked at the pictures, yes the game was definitely on again. I wondered if Sherlock missed it as much as I had. My question was answered when I looked at the pictures, their was a look in his eyes that said he did.

I know that the police department will be looking for me again, the thought makes me smile more, I love a game with so many layers! The police may know enough to know prove Sherlock's innocence but they will never know enough to catch me. I'm just that good, and they are not up to my standards! I hate to admit it but the only time they would have a chance of catching me is if Sherlock wins out little game and gives them the information to do. I don't think that will happen though, he enjoys our little games as much as I do and he isn't ready to see them end yet either.

Sherlock needn't worry, he wont have too long a wait before our next game begins and I know already it is going to be our greatest game yet. I can't help feeling a little sad about this as it will be our last game but I am excited to see how Sherlock will play in the end when there really is everything to play for.

0000

"You can't be serious, you just can't be!" Sergeant Sally Donovan demanded storming into Lestrade's office slamming the pile of paper work she'd been carrying onto his desk.

"Must I remind you yet again to behave as a respected Sergeant should Donovan?" Lestrade demanded meeting Sally's furious eyes.

"Sorry sir," she said quickly knowing it was the only way to move this discussion forward. She waited for Lestade's nod of approval before continuing. "Sir I have just seen the paper work sent in from Sherlock Holmes. We can't seriously still be listening to anything he has to say, not after what happened," she said urgently.

"Sally just listen to me alright. I know you are not Sherlock's biggest fan but did you actually read the documents?" he asked her.

"Yes I did even if all that stuff about this Moriarty being real as I've seen in the evidence do you really think we can have him hanging round our crime scenes. I never liked it you know that and do you really think our boss is going to like it? You heard what he said before," she argued.

"There are ways round these things Sally, you know that," Lestrade said calmly.

"You can't be serious! You just can't be! You can't just let him walk back on our crime scenes!" she protested in disbelief. What was it with Sherlock that people just couldn't see past?

"He's talented, we need him. He gets answers that no one else can," Lestrade answered calmly.

"Maybe because he is much closer to those we are trying to catch," Sally answered icily.

"Look he's innocent and he wont be on any crime scenes for a while yet so can you just let it go," Lestrade tried to reason.

"Fine but i'm not happy about this. I want it noted, i'm not happy about this, and we will see what the investigation says about hi, shall we," she said walking out the office feeling a slither of satisfaction as the door slammed shut behind her.

Lestrade sighed and shook his head slightly. "I gathered that," he said quietly to her retreating form. Working with Sherlock was never easy but he had a feeling it was about to get a lot harder.

The investigation was open again to clear Sherlock's name and for that to happen Sherlock would have to cooperate with the police...somehow he didn't see that happening. He had to speak to Sherlock try to convince him to work with them on this. He was not allowed any involvement with this investigation so he had to act now before his superiors got suspicious and started watching him, as they were bound to do once this investigation got fully under way. He had to speak to Sherlock, now. He got up pulling his coat on and headed out his office to 221B Baker Street.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Sorry for the slight delay in this update. I was out for a few days for my friend's birthday. I dressed up as the mauraders map! I was so impressed! I hope you like this chapter please review and let me know what you think it really means a lot!**

**Disclaimer**

**Still not mine!**

John opened his laptop logging onto his blog to see the comments that had been left there since their press release as he expected there were a mix of responses but overall they had been well received by the public. A bloody miracle he felt with Sherlock.

"**Still not sure...I wouldn't be surprised if he still turned out to be a fake!"**

The cynics are usually the first to reply John thought to himself as he scrolled further down the page. He ignored the spattering of negative comments and focused on the positive responses they had received.

"**I said from the start that you were real and that you would be able to prove it!"**

"**Does that mean you will be back solving crimes again?"**

"**Seems it's another case solved..."**

"**Nice to see the hat again!"**

He had to laugh at the hat comments that were scattered through out the responses. As much as Sherlock hated that hat he was never going to be able to escape it.

He inwardly cursed Sherlock again for refusing to either open a separate account for clients to contact them or to give John the password to his email account. The argument had been long and pointless with Sherlock as it always is but he had been unable to help himself. Sherlock had argued that people knew his email address and would most likely be too stupid to able to cope with the prospect of having to use a different email. He also stated he didn't trust John not to decide what cases they may or may not take on without him being there as his brain as too slow to grasp the ones that mattered from the ones that didn't. He finally argued that he did not need the annoyance and unneeded space taken up in his hard drive to remember two sets of emails and passwords when that space could be used for something much more useful and valuable. As far as Sherlock was concerned that was the subject matter closed.

He didn't even bother trying to hack into Sherlock's email account again. All that had done was give Sherlock more reason to scorn and laugh at how 'slow minded' he was. "Damn you Sherlock," he muttered. It was all he could do to vent his frustration as Sherlock slept. He supposed that was one good thing at least, that Sherlock was actually being sensible with regards to his health.

"What?" a voice enquired from behind him causing him to jump.

"Jesus Sherlock!" John snapped just managing to grasp the laptop before he dropped it from shock.

"Careful with the laptop we need that," Sherlock said heading into the kitchen. "Is there any tea?" he asked.

"Sherlock, what are you doing up? I thought you were sleeping?" he asked watching his friend carefully.

"As you can clearly see i'm awake now is there any tea?" he demanded impatiently.

"No but would you sit down and rest please you really should be sleeping," John said irritably as he got up to make him some tea in the vain hope that it would get him to sit down and rest.

"No time to sleep, sleep is boring there are more important things to do," he said dismissively as he took the cup of tea from John with a slightly shaking hand. "Don't look at me like that, you know it is perfectly normal after a seizure," he snapped wishing the painkillers he'd taken when he woke up would have done more to help the headache and ache of his body.

"Yes but you also know that after a grande mal seizure you are supposed to rest and sleep as much as you can," John said.

"I've rested and i'm fine I have said before I do not wish to be fussed over or treated any differently is that clear?" Sherlock said icily.

"For the last time Sherlock, I am not treating you differently but I do care about you there is a difference. You are always saying you hate wasting time talking about things that are pointless. Well case in point, this is pointless. I am not fussing over you or treating you any differently but I do care about you. So for the last time can you stop having this same argument with me and just accept it and for the love of God, do what you know you need to do to take care of your health," John said evenly.

"I'll try," he conceded hesitantly. "I am fine, I have rested and now we have things to do.," Sherlock said.

"I can see that, you're dressed where are you planning to go? Don't be so stupid to think you are well enough to be running round London and before you even think about saying it this isn't fussing it's stating fact and you know it," John stated.

Sherlock gave John one of his best condescending looks though its effect had somewhat weakened on John over time before he began speaking. "I am not going anywhere but someone is coming here in ten minutes," he said calmly.

"Who?" John asked.

"Lestrade," Sherlock responded sounding almost bored.

"Why is he coming, what does he want?" John pressed.

"To discuss something, most likely relating to Moriarty and the police investigation," Sherlock said disinterest lacing his tone. He was tired but he was determined not to succumb to it, especially not now when things were about to get interesting again as the wheels were once again in motion.

"Oh right, well that's a good thing right. I mean that is what we wanted isn't it? The police to fully clear your name," John said.

"I suppose so but it shouldn't matter so much they are idiots the lot of them," Sherlock muttered.

"Best not say that to them though," John advised.

"Don't see why not," he muttered before returning to the earlier matter. "What were you looking at when I came in that was making you so angry?" he asked.

"Couldn't you just tell me?" he asked smirking a bit.

"I could but according to you it annoys you when I do it so I am giving you the chance to tell me," he said calmly.

John took a moment surprised at Sherlock's growth but he still couldn't help but wonder if it was pure sarcasm before responding. "I was looking at the responses on my blog to our press conference yesterday and cursing you for the email thing that I do not want to get into with you again," he said quickly before Sherlock could start.

"What are the responses like?" he asked moving towards the laptop he wanted to go back to work, he needed his work it was his life.

"They are pretty good but I think we need to look at the emails to see if it is enough to get people interested in wanting actual cases again," John said. He was saved the argument of telling Sherlock he didn't think it was wise for him to be near a computer screen so soon after a seizure by the door bell. Sherlock gestured for John to shut the laptop he hated Lestrade or anyone being involved with his work in any way at all.

"You can get it," Sherlock said sitting down as John looked at him expectantly.

"Sherlock!" John snapped as the doorbell rang again.

"Fine don't answer the door, I am sure they will go away soon," he said with a disinterested shrug. John sighed as he got up ans answered the door ignoring Sherlock's smirk.

"Hi John, it okay if I come in?" Lestrade asked.

"Yeah sure come in, you want tea or anything?" John asked as they came into the living room where Sherlock didn't even bother to acknowledge him.

"Tea would be good thanks John," he said sitting down as John went to make the tea he knew Sherlock wouldn't offer.

"I am guessing you can work out why I am here," Lestrade began.

"I'm sure I can but do tell me," Sherlock said dully as he reached for a cigarette and his lighter.

"Your smoking again since when?" he asked before he could stop himself. He stared at Sherlock in shock. As he did so he couldn't help but notice how tired he was looking but he knew better than to ask.

"Yes I am smoking again why is that all everyone seems to be interested in lately, are your lives really all so boring that the most interesting thing you can think of to question are my smoking habits?" Sherlock demanded.

"Yeah alright Sherlock calm own alright, I'll leave it but well that is actually what I am here to talk to you about," he said.

"What his smoking habits?" John asked confused as he handed Lestrade his tea.

"No, his, well your attitude," he said turning to Sherlock.

"What about it? You know the way I am," Sherlock said curtly.

"Yes Sherlock, we are all aware of what you are like but you need to cooperate with the police on this. You know they will need to interview you again to get this whole thing cleared and it will go a lot easier and faster if you cooperate with them," Lestrade said.

"I can't help it if your colleagues are all idiots," Sherlock said dismissively.

"Sherlock, please do this. You need to keep these opinions to yourself, at least while we get your name cleared then we can maybe find a way to get you back onto some crime scenes. You just need to work with me on this and then give this sometime to blow over," he said.

"Why did you need to come here to tell me this?" Sherlock asked.

"I need to know that you are actually listening to what I am saying and will actually do it. I'm serious Sherlock it is important," Lestrade said firmly.

"Alright, alright I get it, I'll answer all the idiots questions and try not to point out how stupid they are being. I am not doing this for you and I am certainly not doing it for them. I am doing it because I need to get back to work," he said.

"I don't care why you do it as long as you do it. I am serious Sherlock no sarcastic or condescending responses best bet in this I say is for the basis of their interviews you fight every instinct you have to be yourself," he said.

"Fine," Sherlock said in his tone that indicated the discussion was over. Lestrade left hoping he had made it clear just how important this was and that Sherlock did as he was asked. His only hope in this was that it was what he needed to do if he wanted to get back to work.

He only had a few days to wait before he could find out as Sherlock was summoned for questioning.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Sorry about the slight delay in updating but here we are! Can I ask that you please leave a review to let me know your thoughts on this and or to let me know that you are reading this. It will only take a second and it would mean a lot to me, thank you!**

**Disclaimer**

**I still own nothing!**

Sherlock stood outside the police station lighting a cigarette pulling the smoke deep into his lungs. He knew he should quit, it really was far too expensive to sustain a smoking habit in London. At the moment he needed the ease from smoking, it helped him think and he needed that more than ever. He would start on the patches again soon, just not at the moment.

"You really should stop you know, you were doing really well," John commented before he could stop himself. He knew Sherlock had enough going on at the moment but he saw no need for him to poison his lungs in the process.

"No need to state the obvious John and I will stop just not right now," Sherlock said irritatedly.

"Right, right fine," John said.

"Right lets go," Sherlock said dropping the spent cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his shoe.

"Just remember what we talked about," John warned. He was uncomfortable with the fact he wouldn't be in the same room as Sherlock as they were being interviewed. He knew Sherlock's attitude towards the police and knew the chances of this ending well were slim.

"I do not need you to constantly remind me how to act infront of others John," Sherlock snapped.

"Really, because it seems like you do. You know how you can be when people, annoy you for not being as smart as you which you have said yourself happens a lot. So I think you do need me to remind you how important it is that this goes well. So just do yourself a favour and listen to me for once," John said.

"I'll try, oh and John," Sherlock said glancing back at him as he strode towards the building.

"Yeah?" he asked as he followed.

"Your last theory was completely ridiculous you really do need to use your brain," he said shaking his head slightly.

"I heard they called you in freak," Sally's voice called out before John had a chance to respond to Sherlock's comment,

"No need to take your ill mood as result of your situation out on me," Sherlock said dryly with a glance at her.

"What do you mean by that freak?" she demanded before she could stop herself.

"Nothing," Sherlock said in an almost bored tone.

"See, nothing but a fake, I knew it, nothing more than a freaky fake," she said with a smug smile as she made to walk away.

"Sherlock, come on!" John hissed in warning as Sherlock stopped suddenly and turned to face her.

"Great," John muttered to himself.

"Anderson is having problems in the bedroom leaving you feeling unsatisfied and worrying that it is linked to you. Never thought id say this but it's not you. It is most likely a combination of his bad diet and the fact his wife is becoming suspicious and his flirting with the new secretary can't be helping, now excuse me," Sherlock said as he walked into the interview room with the detective who had arrived leaving John and Sally staring after him in disbelief.

"This way please Doctor Watson," another detective said leading John into a nearby room.

John paced nervously in the foyer waiting for Sherlock to come out. He seriously hoped he hadn't said something so typically Sherlock and got himself arrested. He let out a slight sigh of relief when he saw Sherlock's figure come towards him at last. He couldn't help but notice as he watched him approach how tired, thin and pale he was currently looking.

Before he had the chance to ask Sherlock how it went Sally Donovan changed over to him. "Where do you think you get off saying stuff like that? You are not quite so high and mighty as you once were Sherlock. People don't believe a word you say anymore," she hissed.

"Oh I don't know if that's true and if it is then it's because they are idiots as people really should listen to me as unlike so many people in this world I actually see what is going on around me," he said with his usual arrogance, giving John no indication to how the meeting had gone though he had to admit he was just as intrigued as Sargent was to know how he could possible know what he had told her.

"I think you just make it up," she snapped. She hated how pathetic she sounded even to herself but she had to fight him on this, he couldn't be right, he couldn't be.

"You want me to prove it? Fine I'll prove it," Sherlock said with a coy smirk.

"Sherlock leave it, come on lets go," John interjected quickly.

"No let him go on. I want to hear this," Sally said folding her arms.

"See she wants to know. You are always saying I should be more attentive to what other people want so you really can't complain John. How do I know he can't please you sexually well your moods are always happier when Anderson's wife is out of town which she always is this time of year. How do I know your sour mood is down to a lack of sexual pleasure? Easy, you are not currently spending nights with Anderson as you normally do when his wife is away, that is evident from your clean clothes and rested look. I also know Anderson is not being satisfied sexually as I saw him trying to conceal a pornographic magazine on his way to the mens' toilets. A little vulgar for the work place don't you think but then this is Anderson we are talking about and he is even more of an idiot than the rest of the human race. His diet is obvious everyone knows he is far too fond of bacon rolls, crisps and chocolate and medical research has shown that a poor diet can have an effect on a male's ability to gain an erection. Oh and finally how do I know he is flirting with a new secretary, easy John and I had to wait a long and tedious three minutes for her to acknowledge us as she was too busy exchanging pleasantries with him. So if it were me I'd give up on him now, good day," he said turning to leave.

"Sally glared at him retorting with the 'piss off' Sherlock said he often received for his deductions. "Least you're out of here now freak," she snapped.

"Actually i'm not, yet again London's police department jumping to assumptions without checking their facts and getting it hideously wrong. Thank you for highlighting exactly why you need me. See you soon" he said with a smirk as he walked outside.

"This is the third time you have gone to say something but stopped. It's starting to get annoying, what is it you want to say?" Sherlock asked looking at John over the top of the paper he was reading.

"Nothing, it's fine, it's all fine," he said unconvincingly

"Right," Sherlock said rolling is eyes clearing not believing him but not caring enough to peruse the issue. "Can you pass me your laptop," Sherlock asked.

"No!" John said quickly unable to keep it in any longer.

"John, stop being an idiot and pass me the laptop," Sherlock said in a bored and slightly irritated voice.

"Do you really think using a laptop is the best idea right now?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asked.

"You know computers can be a trigger for epileptic fits and you have admitted your epilepsy isn't very well controlled at the moment. I'm worried that you might be trying to do too much too soon," John said in concern. He still didn't know what he had been in hospital for and what they were doing for him.

"I'm fine John and they are just altering the dosage it always takes a while to settle when they do," he said evenly, this wasn't something he liked to talk about.

"If everything is fine then why are they changing the medication?" John pressed.

"We have already covered this. I told you they don't feel it is working as effectively as it should so they want to review it," he said.

"Something must have happened to make you go to the doctor Sherlock. I know you, that's not something you do willingly," he pressed unable to keep the concern out his voice.

"I knew they weren't working as well as they should. I didn't want it to interfere with my work so I did something about it. Can we stop talking about this now. We have work to, now pass me the laptop," he said firmly.

"Alright but just be careful alright," John said knowing there was no point in continuing to press Sherlock on the issue.

Sherlock ignored him as he opened the laptop and went into his emails. He smiled slightly as one caught his eye. He knew this was going to happen and this time he was ready. The game truly was on.


End file.
